


Harry doesn't have a Healer kink

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: Draco saves the day when St Mungo's won't let Harry leave. Harry takes him to dinner to thank him.





	Harry doesn't have a Healer kink

**Author's Note:**

> This is a silly thing I wrote to rest my brain from a longer piece. I have no plans to continue it.

Draco was sitting by his mother’s bedside at St Mungo’s, idly flipping through a three year old issue of _Witch Weekly_ , when the shouting began. Knowing the potions she consumed would keep her asleep, he poked his head out into the corridor to see what the commotion was about.

He did not anticipate a half naked Harry Potter ranting at the mediwitches gathered in the Healer’s station.

“You cannot keep me here against my will!” Potter shouted. His flimsy hospital gown was hardly big enough to cover his torso, so he had wrapped himself in the sheet from his bed. The whole get-up would be adorably attractive, if not for the hysterical yelling going on.

“Mr Potter, please, you are disrupting our other patients!” hissed a frustrated mediwitch with a glance around at the other visitors looking on.

“I do not give two figs for your other patients! You return my belongings and let me leave right now!” Potter winced as he held tight to his side.

“You cannot leave! You are injured! Please return to your room before I have to call security!”

“Is there a problem here?” Draco could not stop himself from interfering. If something juicy was going on with Potter, he wanted to be a part of it.

Potter looked startled at the interruption. He gave Draco a thorough up and down look that in any other situation Draco would have called “seductive.” But then Potter grimaced and said, “They won’t let me leave.”

“This is none of your concern Mr Malfoy. Please return to your mother’s room.”

“Actually, as Mr Potter here is a client of mine, it is very much my concern.” He smiled broadly at Potter. “You _do_ have need of your solicitor, do you not?”

Potter’s shoulders sagged in relief and his bright smile warmed Draco to his toes. “Yes. Yes I do. They won’t return my things and they won’t let me leave.”

The mediwitch practically growled, “He has three cracked ribs! He needs medical attention and twelve hours observation of his lungs before he is free to go.”

“Observation of my backside, more like! I told you I already have a private healer and I should never have been brought here in the first place!”

Before the mediwitch could respond, Draco plucked a blank parchment from the desk. “It seems to me that what we need is an official release. A quill, if you please?” A second mediwitch glanced nervously at her cranky colleague before handing him ink and quill. He spoke as he wrote, “I, Harry Potter, being of relatively sound mind and body do attest that I am leaving St Mungo’s Hospital against the advice of my Healer. I understand that I am putting myself at risk of further harm and hereby release the hospital from any and all repercussions of my rash decision.”

Draco handed the quill to Potter, who signed with a happy flourish, then signed the document himself, with an even greater flourish. He swirled his wand over the parchment, embossing it with his legal seal, then duplicated the document. He handed one to Potter, and the other to the disgruntled mediwitch.

“His personal items, if you please,” Draco said calmly.

The angry mediwitch nodded at the second who scurried off. She returned with a pile of clothes and shoes, a wand, and a necklace with a small charm.

Potter snatched the necklace, whispered to the charm, “Petunia loved me best,” and it glowed the bright blue of a portkey spell. A blink of an eye later and Potter disappeared. 

“Well, that’s sorted then.” Draco took the rest of Potter’s belongings and returned to his mother’s side. Thankfully they would be leaving as soon as she woke up because he had officially worn out his somewhat limited welcome.

\--------

The next morning a small spotted wood owl found him on his balcony enjoying breakfast and the broad view of wizarding London. He gave the owl a piece of bacon as he read the simple note it brought.

_Thank you for yesterday. Meet me for dinner tonight? 7 pm at Lucia’s. - Harry_

Draco wrote back in the affirmative, trying not to read too much into it. Potter needed his wand back, and probably the clothes too. Nothing more than that. It was a thank you dinner, not a date sort of dinner.

Still, the anticipation of an evening with Harry Potter brightened the rest of his day. He happily hummed as he picked out suitable robes and took care styling his hair. One always wanted to look one’s best, just in case. He put Potter’s wand in the pocket with his own wand, and shrunk the bag of clothes to put in another pocket.

With five minutes to spare, he apparated to the restaurant. Potter, already seated, rose when the hostess brought Draco to the table. His smile was warm as he took in Draco’s careful appearance.

“Right on time! Please,” Potter indicated the other chair and they both sat. The hostess left them with wine and dinner menus. Draco pretended to look the menu over, when really he was surreptitiously checking out Potter. His hair, nearly shoulder length these days, hung in gentle waves, and his robes were clean and well tailored. He had taken just as much care with his appearance as Draco had. A very good sign.

“I hope Italian is good for you. I eat here a lot because they keep reporters out. Gives us a bit of privacy.”

Draco cursed his fair skin when he felt a light blush tinge his cheeks. “I didn’t know we’d be needing privacy.”

“No, I mean, we don’t, really. Just, you know, we can have a quiet dinner without someone interrupting.”

Ironically, the waitress returned at that moment to take their drink order. Draco requested a bottle of wine for them to share and a small starter of roasted tomato tarts.

“I have your wand here.” Draco pulled the wand from his pocket and handed it to Potter.

“Oh! Thank you! I’ve been using my spare one since yesterday and it’s just not the same.” Potter ran his hands up and down the wood with a smile, then tucked it up his sleeve. 

Draco shifted in his seat, trying to keep arousal at bay. This was not a date, he scolded himself. “I also have your clothes.” He passed the small packet over, which Potter pocketed with barely a glance.

“Thanks, again, for coming to my rescue yesterday.”

“It was my pleasure. I assume you are all fixed up?”

“Oh yes! Ship-shape! Poppy always takes good care of me.”

“Poppy? Pomfrey?” Draco gave a little chuckle. “You’re telling me your private healer is the woman you’ve been seeing since you were eleven? Potter, you’re nearly thirty!”

“I’m twenty-six as you well know! The necklace is an emergency portkey you activate with a phrase. It takes me to Hogwarts and she patches me up.”

“She’s still at the school?” Real laughter bubbled up in Draco. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”

Potter blushed, “Yeah well, she’s always taken good care of me. At St Mungo’s, every time I go is more awkward than the last.”

“I sort of figured by your bedsheet toga.”

They paused their conversation when the waitress brought them the wine and starter. Potter poured for both of them, then took a tentative sip before smiling. For dinner, Potter ordered the chicken alfredo, and Draco ordered grilled lamb chops with arugula.

“You ever play at a healer kink?” Potter asked, then continued in a cooing, high pitch voice, “Ooh you poor thing. Tell me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it all better.” He bat his eyelashes for good measure.

Draco snorted.

“Well, that’s only sexy and fun if you’re both into it. At St Mungo’s, I’ve been groped by more medi- witches and wizards than I can count and it's terribly creepy. All in the interest of ‘maintaining my health’ of course. ”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh but I am. Even if it’s just a tiny cut on my forehead, I have to strip down to my pants and wear a gown, which is frequently child sized. I’ve fired off enough hexes that now the first thing they do is confiscate my wand.”

“I can sue them for you. My expertise is in inheritance law but I have connections.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather just avoid them when I can. The media, you know.” Potter sipped at his wine. “I tried a regular private healer but, I was nervous about it all. I have to be so careful about the possibility of leaks to the press. But Poppy is the soul of discretion.”

The waitress brought their dinner, and they ate in silence for a few minutes until Draco asked, “Who’s Petunia?”

“What?”

“Petunia. I assume it’s a person. You activated the charm with ‘Petunia loved me best.’ I assume she’s a person, not the flower.”

“Oh, right.” Potter scrunched up his nose. “She’s my aunt. She was never very fond of me. The charm - it has to be a phrase you won’t say by accident so… “ Potter cleared his throat and asked, “So, inheritance law?”

Draco followed the abrupt conversation change with his own awkward story. “Yes. I was studying magical law, deciding on a concentration, when I brought my first boyfriend home.” He watched Potter’s eyes widen ever so briefly. “My father tried to disown me and so I learned all I could about inheritance law. It’s been quite useful. After the war, many families were broken up, both figuratively and literally, so piecing together what goes where has been fascinating.”

“Interesting.” Potter blushed lightly, “So you - you have a boyfriend, then?”

Draco snorted. “Subtle, Potter. But no, I do not currently have a boyfriend.”

“Oh. Well. There you go.” Potter blushed down at his plate and then knocked his knife to the floor. In the guise of retrieving it, he shifted his chair closer to Draco. 

“So,” Harry said with a smile, “Do _you_ have a healer kink?”


End file.
